Send in the Clowns
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Dr. Harleen Quinzel supervises an interview session between Joker and Batman, and finds herself standing up for her patient even though innocent lives may be at risk.


**Send in the Clowns**

"Dr. Quinzel? They're ready for you."

"Thanks," said Dr. Harleen Quinzel, closing her notebook and standing up from her desk. She rubbed her eyes and readjusted her glasses, then took her lab coat down from the peg on the wall, pulling it over her formal clothing. She glanced in the mirror to make sure she looked presentable. Normally a glance would be enough – she wasn't generally picky with her appearance at work. But this time she really studied her reflection in the mirror, brushing back a loose lock of hair, and then pulling it forward again. She looked a bit too stiff and formal, and that wasn't really the impression she wanted to convey. Professional, yes, firm, yes, but not stern. Not no-nonsense – she wanted to look like she had a sense of humor, and she wanted her appearance to be a little more relaxed today. No reason in particular – she just sometimes wanted to look a little more…fun.

She undid the top button on her blouse and put on a tiny bit more lipstick. Then she left her office and headed off down the hall. She realized she was hurrying and tried to slow her walk. There was no reason for her to be hurrying. They would wait for her. But she found herself eager to get downstairs, found her heart pounding in excitement. There was nothing unusual in that, she told herself. This was a momentous occasion. Not very many people could say they had met Batman, still fewer could say that had sat in on an interview with him. She idly wondered what he would be like, if he would be friendly at all, or just dark and mysterious, like his image. A lot of the other female doctors had expressed their jealousy of her, but Harleen had never thought of Batman as an object of attraction. And her thoughts weren't genuinely focused on the Caped Crusader now. They returned, almost against her will, to the patient being interviewed. The Joker.

Well, there was nothing unusual in that, she told herself. He was her patient. It was natural for doctors to think about their patients, to feel for them, to care about them, even. And the Joker was a fascinating and charismatic man. It would be interesting to watch how he dealt with Batman's questions, if he would be open and honest, as he was with her, or put on his usual, devil-may-care, defensive persona. 'Interesting' was the word, a good word, she told herself. She took an interest in her patient. She'd be a pretty horrible doctor if she didn't. There was nothing wrong in that.

She arrived at the interview room to see Dr. Leland waiting for her outside, along with the Joker, under heavy guard. "What's up, Doc?" said Joker, beaming as he saw her. "Other than my temperature at seeing you this morning! You look smoking hot!"

"Good morning, Mr. Joker," she replied, casually, trying to ignore the compliment, although she felt the color rise to her cheeks a little. He was looking the same as always, dressed in his plain clothes, that perpetual, mischevious smile on his handsome face. She couldn't help her gaze lingering on him as she turned to Dr. Leland. "Morning, Joan. Is he here yet?"

Dr. Leland nodded. "Waiting inside. Are you sure you wanna sit in on this, Harley?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she replied, puzzled.

"No reason," replied Dr. Leland, shrugging. "Batman can just be pretty intimidating sometimes."

"I'm not afraid of him, Joan," retorted Harley. "This is a guy who dresses up in a Halloween costume every night. How dangerous can he be?"

She heard Joker chuckle at this, and felt her heart begin to pound. His laugh always had that effect on her – it was just so…special. Just like him. She suppressed a smile and gestured to the door. "Should we go in?"

Dr. Leland nodded and signaled to the guards. Harley went in first, with Joker right behind her, pushed in by the attendants. She suddenly felt her bottom being pinched, and then his voice in her ear, whispering, "I mean it, Doc. Smoking hot. Daddy wouldn't mind a piece of that."

She felt a chill run through her body as her face flushed with color, her heart pounding. But she turned to confront him, startled to see his face so close to her, and even more startled by her sudden desire to just shove her mouth upon those red lips and let things escalate…

"You will kindly…keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Joker," she managed to stammer, trying to keep her feelings under control. There wasn't anything wrong in them – they were the perfectly natural feelings of a doctor toward her patient. That was all, she told herself, firmly. That was all.

He chuckled again as they led him away to a chair, across the table from a man dressed in a bat costume, who stood up when they entered. "Dr. Leland, good to see you again," he said, nodding at her.

"And you, Batman," replied Dr. Leland. "Allow me to introduce Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She's been examining the Joker for several weeks now."

Joker giggled. "You make it sound so dirty, Doc!" he chuckled. "I don't mind admitting I've been examining her pretty thoroughly too! Ain't she just a little knockout? C'mon, Bats, admit it! I know you're a repressed freak, but even you wouldn't mind her having you on the couch!"

"Dr. Quinzel," said Batman, ignoring Joker and holding out his hand to her. Harley took it and shook it firmly, repressing her blush and smile at Joker's words.

"It's an honor, Batman," she said, stiffly. "You've done some excellent work for this city. I'm sure we're all very grateful to you."

Batman nodded in acknowledgement and then sat down across from Joker. Harley and Dr. Leland took chairs at the side of the room as the guards, at Batman's signal, left them.

"I want to know where the bomb is, Joker," said Batman, quietly but firmly.

"What bomb?" asked Joker, smiling back.

"The bomb you mentioned in your note," said Batman, handing a piece of paper to him. "The one that's set to go off at midnight on April Fool's Day, to create, in your own words, 'the greatest joke on humanity since a flying rodent decided to take the law into his own hands.'"

"Isn't it nice to know I was thinking about you?" chuckled Joker.

"Where is it, Joker?" repeated Batman.

Joker shrugged. "Don't really remember. When did I write this?" he asked, squinting at the note. "Must have been a few months ago now – I've been locked up in here for ages. Or it seems that way anyway. No offense to you, sweets, you've been the only spark of happiness in this miserable dump," he said, grinning at Harley. "Might not have even written it, come to think of it," he said, returning his attention to the note. "Is that my handwriting?"

"Yes, it is," growled Batman. "And you do remember, Joker, I know it. So tell me where it is."

"Batsy! Are you saying you don't trust me?" gasped Joker. "I'm hurt, I really am! After all we've been through together! Why would I lie to you?"

"Because that's what you do," growled Batman. "Because you think it's funny."

"It _is _funny, Bats," chuckled Joker. "Not as funny as the truth, mind you, but still pretty hilarious. Comedy's about the unexpected – give someone a setup and then, bam!" he slammed his fist down on the table. "Hit him right between the eyes with the punchline! They never see it coming!"

"Are you saying there is no bomb?" demanded Batman. "That this is all some sick joke?"

"I'm saying that either way, you fell for it," he replied, grinning. "And you're going to be surprised at the ending, whatever it turns out to be. You might even laugh. I know I will."

"This isn't funny, Joker!" shouted Batman. "People could get hurt!"

"And what's not funny about that?" laughed Joker. "Not a fan of slapstick, eh, Bats? Well, I am. Nothing more hilarious than people getting punched, or hit, or exploded. You ever watch _The Three Stooges_? Did you know all their stunts and gags and fights were real? And people still laugh at them. Y'know why? Because pain is funny. Why do you think I'm always laughing when you beat the crap outta me? I'm just imagining how hysterical someone watching it on TV would think it is. C'mon, you gotta admit it's funny, Bats. A guy in a batsuit, a Halloween costume, as Dr. Quinzel so astutely pointed out earlier, and a clown, punching each other out until one of them wins, only to repeat the endless cycle over and over again. It's just a gag that never gets old," he chuckled.

"And what's even funnier," he continued. "Is that you believe you're doing it all for some good cause! Me, I do it because I enjoy it. Because it's fun. Because pain is funny, like I said earlier. You're doing it because you believe in right and truth and justice and all that crap. You take it all so seriously, Bats, that's why it's hilarious. I'm just the jolly jester who shows you how stupid and silly you actually are. You need me, Bat-brain. Otherwise _you_ look like the fool!"

He laughed. Batman glared back at him and said, quietly, "I'm going to ask you nicely one more time, Joker. Where is the bomb?"

"In the billiard room," retorted Joker, grinning. "Along with Colonel Mustard, the candlestick, and a whole lotta very dead bodies."

He laughed hysterically. Without warning, Batman seized Joker by the collar and dragged him across the table. "This isn't a game, Joker!" he shouted. "Tell me the truth or I'll beat it out of you!"

Before Joker could respond, Harley had leapt to her feet. "Let him go right now!" she shouted at Batman, furiously. "I will not stand by and see my patient subjected to this kind of manhandling! He is a mentally ill man, and deserves to be treated with the same courtesy as a physically ill one! Or would you drag a man in a wheelchair across the table?" she demanded.

Batman was surprised, and so was Joker, for a moment. Then he chuckled. "You heard the lady, Bats, hands off," he said, grinning at him. "I ain't the kinda guy who likes being handled by men, y'know, not unless they buy me dinner first," he giggled.

"Dr. Quinzel, I appreciate your concern for your patient's welfare," said Batman. "But there really is a more pressing issue right now…"

"And who made you the Lord God Almighty?" demanded Harley. "Who let you decide what's pressing and what's not? I will not see my patient subjected to this kind of treatment, whatever the reason. That's the law, Batman, and I know you might be a stranger to it, dispensing your own brand of self-appointed justice, but my patient is protected by it. You will release him immediately."

"Harley…" began Dr. Leland.

"Don't tell me you're ok with this?!" demanded Harley, turning on her. "Is this what you've been letting him do all these years? Waltz in here like he's king of the world and administer threats and violence to the mentally ill? Our patients are victims, Joan, victims of society, and mostly victims of this deranged vigilante! They deserve our protection, not our collusion with this man whose desire to dress up in a costume and start fights proves his own sanity is clearly questionable. If you were a patient of mine, I'd certify you without hesitation," she snapped at Batman. "Now let him go before I call the guards and tell them to put you in a straightjacket."

Batman reluctantly released Joker, who kept giggling. "Now you listen to me, Batman," said Harley, firmly. "You may not like the way the law works, it may not quite be your idea of justice, but it exists because we live in a democratic society. We don't need people with more strength than sense going around trying to make it better. They don't make it better. They make it worse. Why do you think you're so special? Why do you think the law doesn't apply to you? It applies to me. It applies to my patient – he's in this facility because he's violated the law. And I believe you deserve to be here too, for the same crime. But it turns out justice isn't always fair, is it? Still, he has to abide by it. So do you."

Joker whistled. "What a woman! She's got beauty and brains, Bats, and I like a gal who can discipline! C'mon, don't tell me your suit ain't a little tighter down there right now? I know mine is," he chuckled.

"Dr. Quinzel, if you will not allow me to use whatever methods necessary to extract information from him, people will die," said Batman, firmly.

"You think I'll allow you to beat a man into a pulp just because you think he's got something worth knowing?" demanded Harley. "Where would that end, Batman? Would we be allowed to torture anyone with the possibility of any information? Do we want a return to a medieval society? Is that the price of your justice? Because I'd rather live without it, thanks."

"It's not random torture," retorted Batman. "I know he's responsible for planting a bomb. I know he knows where it is. I know if I don't do something about it, innocent lives will be destroyed."

"So you choose to destroy a corrupted life instead," retorted Harley. "One you consider to be valueless. I was under the impression that those were the people most in need of sympathy and understanding. Whatever you might think of him, Batman, my patient is not worthless. He is intelligent, capable, and charismatic, and he has a lot to offer society. But he will never be able to be rehabilitated as long as you keep condemning him to this endless cycle of fear and violence. He will not be threatened anymore. He will be treated with respect and compassion. If you see yourself as the hero here, that's certainly the least you can do."

"Yeah, you are the hero, aren't you, Bats?" asked Joker, grinning. "Why don't you prove to the little lady just how much of a hero you actually are? How much you're really willing to sacrifice just to get me to talk. If you really believe in the welfare of the greater good over the individual, why don't you shut her up? Just hit her or knock her unconscious or something. Then you can do whatever you want to me. You can beat me until I tell you where the bomb is, and you can save all those innocent lives. Or you can take being told off by a woman, like a naughty schoolboy being punished by Mommy. Difficult choice, isn't it? You ain't the kinda guy who goes around hitting girls. And that's not really what a hero would do, is it? So what do you do, Bats? Do you do to her what you try to do to me, and beat her into submission? Or do you let all those people die?"

Batman sat down slowly, and Joker laughed hysterically. "Gee Bats, I guess you're just a superficial guy when you get right down to it! You'll kick the crap outta me, but you won't raise your hand to a pretty blonde doll, even though the same thing's at risk. Guess all those innocent people might not be as hot as the Doc here, huh? Probably not worth saving, really."

Batman started forward, but to his astonishment, Harley stepped in front of Joker and literally shoved Batman back. "I said stay away from him!" she shouted. "He's under my protection and I won't let you hurt him anymore, you cowardly bully! This interview is over! Joan, please call the guards."

"Harley…" began Dr. Leland.

"You know I've got the law on my side, Joan, whatever you may personally believe to be right," retorted Harley. "That doesn't really matter, after all. I hope Batman realizes that soon. Please call the guards. Now."

Dr. Leland sighed but nodded, rising. Harley and Batman locked eyes with each other until the guards came. Then Batman nodded, heading for the door. "It was nice to have met you, Dr. Quinzel," he muttered. "I'm sure we'll meet again."

"I have no doubt of it," retorted Harley. The guards dragged Joker out of the room. Harley followed him to his cell, where they left him, shutting and locking the door.

"I hope he didn't frighten you too much," said Harley when they were alone.

Joker chuckled. "No, he don't ever frighten me, Doc. Like you said, what's there to be scared of? He ain't dangerous. Crazy, yeah, but not dangerous."

Harley nodded, looking at him tenderly. She turned to go, but he reached out and caught her hand through the bars. "Gotta say, Doc, that was a great little speech you gave to him," he whispered. "Great performance all round. Thanks for standing up for me."

Harley felt her heart pounding as she turned back to look at him, his adorable smile lighting up his gorgeous face. She felt incredibly protective toward him – well, that was only natural. He was her patient. She had a duty to protect him. But it was more than that. It wasn't just a duty, doing a duty didn't make you this happy.

"I only did what any good doctor would have done seeing her patient treated that way," she murmured.

"I must not have had any good doctors before," he replied, grinning. "Not until you, Doc. There's something real special about you. I like the way you talk, and think, and of course I like the way you look, but then I ain't blind," he added, grinning.

She felt that urge again, that almost overpowering urge to kiss him. His lips were right there, red and tempting. "Is there a bomb planted somewhere?" she murmured, trying to distract herself. "Or is it just a joke?"

He giggled. "Lemme tell you a secret, sweets," he said, suddenly pulling her against the bars. Harley's heart was pounding in excitement as she stared into his beautiful, deep, fascinating eyes. "I never joke about hurting people," he murmured into her ear. "I'm always deadly serious about that."

"So it will go off?" murmured Harley, shutting her eyes as she felt his breath on her face, warm and close. "People will die?"

"That's what people do, toots," murmured Joker. "That's the joke, see? Wherever you are, whatever you're doing, you're never safe. Every second you live brings you closer to the punchline of life's greatest gag. That in the end, it's all meaningless. We're all gonna die. All we can do is have some fun until we do. You understand that, right, a clever little minx like you? You understand that, doncha, Doc?"

His perfect lips had been teasingly brushing her face, and now they were inches from hers. Harley couldn't resist anymore, and she didn't want to. She leaned forward, but just before she could meet them she heard a voice say, "Dr. Quinzel?"

She ripped her arm away from him suddenly and whirled around to face an attendant. "Yes?" she said, trying to keep a calm voice and hoping she wasn't blushing too much.

"Your 11 o'clock is waiting in your office," he said.

"Oh…thanks," she replied. "I'll be right there."

He nodded and left. She tuned back to Joker. The moment had passed, her mind had regained control over her inappropriate desires and suppressed them. For now, she thought, as he continued to smile at her with his gorgeous grin.

"See you at tomorrow's session, Doc!" he laughed, heading over to his bed and shutting his eyes.

She didn't respond other than to nod. She headed off down the hall towards her office, her mind in a whirl and her heart still pounding. She shouldn't be having these feelings for her patient, let alone _this _patient. He was a homicidal madman – he had planted a bomb that was going to kill people, and she had let him get away with it. That was wrong. She should tell Dr. Leland, tell her to bring back Batman, and let him do anything he had to to stop Joker's plan. But she didn't want to do that. She didn't want to do anything to hinder him. If anything she wanted to help him, and protect him from anyone who would hurt him, from the law to the Bat.

It was wrong, all this. It didn't make sense. But it felt so right. The feel of his lips on her skin, of his face near hers, of his hand on her arm, all had felt so incredibly right. Maybe sometimes sense was wrong. Maybe sometimes reason was wrong. Or maybe they just didn't matter anymore. This must be how he felt, she thought. Maybe she was going crazy, like him. Or maybe she was just falling in love. Maybe they were the same thing. Whatever it was, she never wanted this madness to end. And she couldn't help smiling, because she suddenly felt that it never, ever would.

**The End**


End file.
